An Unlikely Prince Charming
by Avoline Malfoy
Summary: Meeka is a girl stuck in anything but a fairy tale. Her love life sucks, and she's stuck in a town full of pig-headed men. What will become of her when she meets a mischievous stranger with dark hair and green eyes? RATED M FOR LANGUAGE AND FOR LATER CHAPTERS
1. The Handsome Stranger

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_GAAAAAAH!_

_I watched Thor and The Avengers the other day, and now I've been Loki'd. Big time. Like, I have a board on Pinterest dedicated to him._

_Anyway, in anticipation for the new Thor movie, I have been inspired to write this little fiction. Once again, what ifs. What if, instead of taking Loki back to Asgard, Thor dropped him in a tiny little town all by himself and forced him to live among humans? What if he didn't have his powers, aside from lying and getting into trouble?_

_So, why don't we find out?_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Meeka sat at the table, indulged in the book before her. She had waited months for it to be released, and now nothing would interrupt her attention. She did glance up every so often when the door to the coffee shop opened, only to see an ex-boyfriend walk in, or a stranger and his girlfriend. She sighed, wondering when she would find her own Prince Charming.

She had tried numerous times. Each boy she dated seemed to only have one thing in mind. She wasn't that kind of girl; she had standards and wouldn't settle for anything less. No one eligible in this pathetic town seemed to meet her standards, and she didn't have the money to move away.

_Guess I'll just die an old maid._

"Excuse me?"

She looked up, stunned to see a man before her. He was different somehow. His looks were nothing like the others in town, and she wondered if he was just moving to town or if he was simply passing through.

"Yes," she answered, her voice even.

"May I sit here," he inquired. "I would understand if you said no." She laughed, kicking herself when he gave her a confused look.

"Of course," she replied, marking her place in her book. "I could use a companion." She set it aside as he took a seat across from her. "So, I take it you're not from around here?" He shook his head.

"No, I'm not," he responded solemnly. "I... came here cause I haven't anywhere else to go. I have... embarrassed my family, and cannot return home."

"So you're looking to make a new home here," she asked, wondering why he would choose such a hopeless place. He smiled, and was caught off guard by how handsome he was. His green eyes twinkled with... regret, maybe? Or was it mischief?

"This was the first place I came across that seemed appropriate," he stated simply. "So far, you're the first friendly face I've seen. And you seem to enjoy literature." He gestured to her book, _Clockwork Princess. _She grinned.

"I've read the first two five times waiting for that one," she informed the handsome stranger. "It's the last one in the series, and I'm curious to see what the author has in store for the character's lives." She glanced at her watch. "I hate to cut our conversation short, but I've got to get home and feed my dog."

"May I join you," he asked, and she picked up on the small amount of fear in his voice. She met his gaze. "I used my remaining funds getting here, and-"

"Don't have enough for a hotel," she finished for him. He nodded, and she pondered the possibilities. She did have a spare bedroom, and an air mattress that she could sleep on for the night.

"Sure," she began. "But only for one night. Handley isn't fond of strangers, and I'd hate for her to yank off your hand." He chuckled, and she couldn't figure out why her heart was fluttering. She didn't even know his damn name, and had just met him.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Here we are," she announced as she put the KIA in park. "It's not much, but it's home." She watched as he assessed the small, double-wide modular home.

True, it wasn't much. A tiny kitchen, and two even smaller bedrooms. But it was enough for her. She didn't need that much room, anyway, and the neighborhood was quiet. Why should she care what a total stranger thought?

"I'm sure it's nice inside," he commented. She shook her head and got out of the car, making her way to the door. She swiftly unlocked it, and they both entered the small house.

"Handley," she called, and was greeted by the small Jack Russel terrier. Before she could blink, the dog charged at her guest, her mouth clamping around his leg. "Handley, no!"

"It's okay," he laughed, clearly not phased by the sudden attack. "She can't bite through my boot. She's not hurting me." She watched, stunned, and he reached down and scratched Handley behind the ear. The animal let go of his leg and licked his hand.

Well, this was certainly different.


	2. Hiding The Truth

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_Alright, here we go! Meeka, unknowingly, has just met the God of Mischief. What kind of trouble will follow?_

_But, now it's time for Loki's thoughts. Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki laid upon the "air mattress", pondering his predicament. He had expected to be taken back to Asgard and face justice there, but Thor had other idiotic plans, and dropped him in this pitiful Midgardian town, without his magic and with no explanation as to how to survive.

Good thing he was as good at acting as he was at lying.

He wanted to destroy the dog. Handley, was it? The stupid creature had attacked a would-be king! Had Thor not been gracious enough to let him keep his boots, the canine would have severed his leg.

Maybe he was being over-dramatic. The dog wasn't that big. It would have taken a small chunk from his leg, but he wouldn't have completely lost his leg. After the initial attack, the animal proved to be quite cute. Even he had to admit that much.

He sighed and turned over. He was far too polite for his own good some times. Normally, he would have demanded the bed and made her sleep on this god-forsaken thing. But he knew better. She had no clue who he was, and repaying her kindness with unobtainable demands would lead to nothing but him being on the streets.

He hated this. He hated being at the mercy of a mortal. But he had no choice. He didn't have his magic or his own title. He had to play the part of pitiful victim just to have somewhere to lay his head. This "house" was smaller than his childhood bedroom in the palace, and this town was barely big enough to even be on a map of any sort. Why had Thor chose such a place?

He closed his eyes, a strange fatigue washing over him. He would have to get used to living like a mortal. Otherwise, he might not see a new dawn.

* * *

He awoke to the smell of food, and raised his head to see the young woman in the kitchen. His jaw dropped at the sight before him.

She was beautiful. He had not noticed that the day before, only her obvious appreciation for literature. Her legs were smooth and well apportioned, not as skinny as his own, but not so thick that they were unsightly. Her hair was down today, and cascaded past her shoulders in perfect red curls. The shirt clung to each curve, and he found that, unlike the small, lithe women of Asgard, she was of medium build.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted. "Figured since I've got the day off, I can at least serve you breakfast." She pointed down the narrow hallway. "The bathroom is at the end, to the left. I've put some of my brother's old clothes in it, as well as a clean towel and a spare scrubber. I'll get cleaned up once you're done." He nodded silently, and rose to do as she said.

How could she be so kind and polite? Their conversation the evening before had shown that she was a social outcast. Yet she opened up her home to him, a total stranger in this strange place. She even offered him clean clothes and food! He was ashamed to admit to himself that he would not have done the same thing.

He turned the knobs, figuring out quickly how to adjust the temperature of the water. He stepped into the shower, and was shocked at how much more relieved his muscles felt when the warm water struck them. He stood under the flow, allowing himself a rare, unguarded moment.

His thoughts wandered to the woman he only knew as his mother. She had raised him like he was her own, and he was positive that she knew what he was. Yet she never seemed to care. She stood beside him, even when he almost destroyed her home. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Did she still see the abandoned newborn that needed a home? Or did she see him for the monster that he was?

He bit his tongue and cursed his emotions. Remembering that the water would hide his weakness, he let a few tears slip down his face. He could deal with Odin viewing him as a monster. He could also deal with Thor seeing him for what he truly was. Yet when it came to Frigga, the woman who had taken him in and loved him unconditionally, he feared that she saw his true nature. If she saw him as nothing more than another Joutun monster, he wasn't sure if he could live another day. He wished that he had the power to read one's thoughts. It would answer all of his questions with ease.

He reached for the shampoo bottle. He had spent enough time letting his thoughts rule him. It was time to make himself presentable to his hostess, and she needed to clean up as well. How rude would he be if he used up all the hot water?

A few moments later, he stepped out of the shower and began to dry off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and grasped the bottle of hair gel. At least the mortal woman had one thing he knew how to use. With his hair styled and taken care of, he turned to the clothes she had so kindly set out for him.

A pair of faded jeans, and a shirt that read USMC.

He stared, stunned at the new information. In his short time on Midgard, he learned that, when someone has a shirt like that in their possession, they most likely had a family member that was a warrior. "Military service men," the mortals called them. She had said that the clothes were her brother's.

Which means he might be wearing a dead man's clothes.

He grimaced and pulled the jeans on. He didn't have much choice, really. It was either put on the clothes, or walk back in her living room wearing nothing but a towel. He was a god; he would not be put in such a vulnerable situation.

This was going to be harder than he thought.


	3. A Years Worth of Pain

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_Loki is so sensitive, isn't he? Brace yourself for more of that!_

_Now it's back to Meeka!_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Meeka finished up the scrambled eggs before pulling the biscuits out of the oven. Breakfast was ready; she was just waiting on Loki, or whatever his name was, to finish with the shower. She heard her cell phone ring, and looked to see who was calling.

"Hey, girl," she greeted, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

"Meeka, did you really let a GUY spend the night," her friend answered.

"Tasha, he needed a place to stay," she countered. "He's out of money, can't go home, and he seems like a nice guy. He's not from around here, and he's a total gentleman!"

"They all are at first," Tasha replied sarcastically. "Doesn't mean he'll stay that way. Anyway, is 'e cute?" The red-head laughed.

"Hell yeah, he is! He's got long, dark hair, beautiful green eyes, about six feet tall, and the most alluring accent!" She heard Handley claw at the door, and went to open it. "He's getting a shower right now. Been in there for thirty minutes."

"Don't tell me you're loaning him Mikey's old Marine shirt," the older woman inquired. Meeka bit her lip and took a deep breath.

"Tasha, no one else is going to wear those clothes, and he needed something clean to wear," she defended. "Besides, it's been a year, and this guy looks nothing like Mikey."

"Okay, I'm trusting you," Tasha surrendered. "But you've got to let me meet him sometime. Later, Meeka," She voiced her good-bye and hung up, leaning against the wall and trying to round up her emotions.

Leave it to her best friend to bring up her brother. He had been so excited when he signed up for the Marines. She was proud of him, but when he got the orders to deploy to Iraq, she couldn't stop the dread from consuming her. She prayed every day that he would come home safe.

Then her mother called three months after he had been deployed. She knew what the news would be, but even that couldn't stop the emotions from gripping her like a vice. She had hoped last night that this new man would help ease her pain, and that the time since would have faded the emotions.

She heard the bathroom door open, and glanced down the hall to see that familiar grey t-shirt. She forced herself to meet his eyes, hoping that it would get her mind off of the conversation she just had.

"Feel better," she questioned, trying to keep her voice even.

"Yes, thank you," he answered, his voice laced with concern. She looked away quickly, but he was at her side just as fast. "Meeka, what's wrong?" She took another deep breath.

"I thought it would get easier," she whispered, hoping that he wouldn't hear. "I thought maybe, if I loaned you his clothes, I could forget." His hand gently skimmed her arm, a comforting gesture, and she knew that he had put the pieces together before he ever left the bathroom. "He was my big brother. The one who protected me from the assholes and took me to my senior prom. He was the only one brave enough to sign up." He lifted his arms, and she leaned into him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry; I truly am. If you'd rather, I can always wear another shirt." She shook her head against his chest, feeling so small against him.

"No," she forced out, a tear racing down her cheek. "I need to move on. I just never really thought it would be so difficult." She felt his fingers pet her arm, and she finally allowed herself to grieve.

A years worth of pain, all washing over her like water.


	4. Reflecting

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_Has anyone put together the puzzle pieces yet? Loki has, that's for sure!_

_So, now we bounce back to our God of Mischief. Who's ready for his reaction to the truth?_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki slammed his fist against the tree, wincing at the pain racing up his arm. He was wearing a dead man's clothes. He should have demanded another shirt, or just asked her to go buy him new clothes instead. But, being the still-overly-polite fool, he put on the damned shirt. He should have known better.

But what about Meeka? He rubbed his knuckles, the image of her weeping in his arms returning to him. These were her brother's clothes. Her brother, who had served his country and done so with pride and honor, who had protected his little sister from the jerks in this town and the heartache that would follow.

What if it were Thor? He muttered under his breath, glad that the big oaf couldn't see him. Despite what Loki might say, he still loved his brother, and wasn't sure if he would be as strong as his kind hostess if something were to happen to the blond. He felt tears prick his eyes, and rapidly blinked them away. Thor had thought Loki dead, had mourned a whole year for him. What if the tables were changed? Loki closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Had it not been for Thor's reasoning, the pain in those pale blue eyes, Loki would have continued on the path to destruction. Loki had tried to force himself to think of Thor as his enemy, but the buffoon had made a strong point. They were raised together; they played together; they fought side by side. Sure, the raven-haired man remembered living in the shadow of the blond's greatness, but he also remembered the numerous times Thor had defended him, stood up for him, even helped him when no one else would. He had always been there when Loki needed him.

And how did the Jotun repay such brotherly kindness? By bringing death and destruction to the planet Thor so dearly loved. He knew when he had pushed the God of Thunder too far, and that was merely forty-eight hours ago, when they left the ruin that was New York. Things would never be the same between them. Loki had destroyed every shred of hope for them to return to being brothers. He had put the love of Thor's life in danger, and tried to posses a power the green-eyed man couldn't control.

In all honesty, the tezzaract had placed Loki under a spell. At first glance, no one, not even the God of Mischief himself would have noticed. But the power of the cube had mingled with his feelings of anger and betrayal, and showed in only the most minute physical difference: his eyes. While under the spell, Loki's eyes were the same blue as Thor's. His mind had been clouded by the rage, but he remembered a moment of clarity, when his older brother was trying to reason with him, had showed him the chaos the Chitauri were causing. He remembered the pain and utter disbelief after the dim green creature had slammed him around like he was a doll.

Those were the few moments where the tezzaract's spell had been broken, if only for a moment.

He opened his eyes and looked towards the house. Meeka was probably close to done with her shower, and breakfast was getting cold. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. She had no clue. And if he had his way, she would never have to know.

All he had to do was keep his emotions in check.

* * *

He walked beside her, his hands stuffed in the pocket of the jeans, as they made their way to the book store. Meeka had suggested some classic literature, and he was eager to start reading what she had called the "best books across the ages." The one he was most interested in was _Pride and Prejudice, _a book that she was sure he could relate to. He had smirked at her words. If she only knew...

But she should never know. He knew that, deep inside of him, she would hate him if she ever figured out what he did in Manhattan. She was the only friendly face he's seen in this Midgardian town. He couldn't risk her knowing the truth.

"Here we are," she announced, much like she had the night before. "The only book store in the whole town. I had them reserve a copy of the book I was reading when we met." She reached for the door, but not before his finger closed around the handle, holding it open for her.

"Ladies first," he stated simply. She smiled, and something fluttered in his chest. What was that? Was it his heart, which he had thought lost after the incident with the Bifrost? He shook his head slightly as she stepped inside. It must have been his nerves, strung tight at the fear of her figuring out the truth.

They browsed the shelves for hours, grabbing a book every so often. He found that he was rather enjoying himself, until she reached for a book, a somber expression on her face. This time, he said nothing, just stood beside her as her fingers traced the letters on the cover. _For whom the Bell Tolls,_ it read. He had the feeling this was connected to her brother, but didn't want to push the subject.

"This was Mikey's favorite book," she muttered sadly. "He read it over fifty times. Said one day it would be him." She stared for a moment longer, the placed it in the basket. "Maybe you'll enjoy it just as much."

That night, he barely slept at all.


	5. Opening Up

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_Oh, yes, Loki is most decidedly a hidden gentleman. And I've got plans for Meeka, don't you worry. Just wait and see._

_So, this chapter is going to have a lot of dialog. One of them is going to make a big leap and open up to the other. Ready to see what goes down?_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Meeka slowly awoke to the smell of bacon, and groggily searched for her pajamas. She glanced at her cell phone to see the time, and was shocked to know that it was only nine in the morning. She placed her feet on the floor and quietly made her way down the hall.

"Ah, good morning," Loki greeted cheerfully. "Bacon's almost done, scrabbled eggs are cooling now, and the biscuits are ready if you're just that hungry." She stared, stunned at this random display of kindness. "I figured, since you cooked yesterday for me, I'd return the favor."

"I didn't know you could cook," she stated dumbly, then mentally kicked herself. He paused for a brief moment.

"My mother taught me," he replied. "I figured since my brother was too interested in everything outside, I would take up helping her. Knew it would come in handy one day." She leaned against the wall behind him- the wall she had leaned against before grieving in his arms- and studied him silently, admiring how her brother's old American Eagle jeans made the six-foot man's butt look delectable.

"What is your mother like," she questioned without thinking. It was time she got to know the man, since it appeared he would be sleeping in her living room for a while. He carefully placed the bacon on a plate to cool before turning around and leaning against the counter. She noticed a glint of sadness in his eyes, and wondered if he would always look this vulnerable when asked about his family.

"She is, in a word, the kindest woman I've ever known," he began, his voice soft. "She never favored one of us over the other, and was the most loving mother anyone could ever ask for. If a friend needed something, she was the first to lend a hand. Hell, I think she would take in a child if it meant they would be cared for." He smiled, a small, forlorn expression to match his eyes. "She could never say no to someone who was truly in need." His emerald gaze met her sapphire eyes. "What about your brother? What kind of man was he?" She took a deep breath and looked away.

_It's now or never..._

"He was a very honorable man," she responded. "He would help anyone in need, much like your mother. There was a guy once, ole Jimmy Black. He would constantly grab my ass, and I hate confrontation of any kind. He did it once, not realizing Mikey was behind him." She laughed at the memory. "Mikey whipped him around and punch him right in the nose. Told him if he ever laid his hand on a woman like that again, a bleeding nose would be the least of his worries." Her smile grew. "Jimmy never messed with me again. Was too damn scared of Mikey." She stared at the floor, the memory running through her mind.

"You were lucky to have him as your older brother," he commented sympathetically. She nodded and moved towards the food.

She guessed that they would do a lot more opening up soon.

* * *

"This is the best military book ever!"

She laughed at his enthusiasm for her brother's old favorite. It was barely one in the afternoon, and he had already read half of the book, soaking it in like a sponge. He was silent when he read, but even his eyes, as accustomed to reading as he said they were, needed a break. They each marked their place in their books, and he decided to strike up a conversation. She had tried to approach the subject of his father at breakfast, but was met with a brick wall. She didn't want to push him away just when he was starting to open up to her.

"Glad you like it," she answered. His eyes met hers again, and she knew he was about to ask about her family again.

"What's your mother like," he inquired. "She must be a remarkable woman to have raised such a remarkable young man and a woman such as yourself." She blushed slightly and looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Mom died when I was eight," she murmured. "Car accident. She didn't stand a chance." She took a deep breath and made eye contact. "But she was a remarkable woman. She would fight off anyone who tried to talk about Daddy in any way that wasn't nice. Daddy was a truck driver before the accident, so it was mostly me, her, and Mikey most of the time. Most of the guys around here who knew what Daddy did would come around, trying to take advantage of how lonely she was. They would knock on the door and find themselves face to face with her gun, which her and Daddy called the Peace Maker. After about three days of them trying each time Daddy went on a run, they'd give up." He reached for her hand and gently squeezed it.

She tried to hide how the action affected her. Electricity shot through her as his skin touched hers. She couldn't understand why, since it never happened with any man before him. She wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life, just holding his hand, even though she barely knew anything about him.

Who was she kidding? He could have any woman he pleased. He would never consider her as his soul mate. She could go ahead and forget about any possible future with him.

"I'm sorry you had to loose her at such a young age," he whispered. She nodded, her mind barely registering his words.

She picked up her book and went back to reading, trying to focus on the story.


	6. Tangled Thoughts

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_So, they both did a good bit of opening up. Not what I had intended, but the characters do as they please. I am simply their messenger._

_I saw the new Thor movie last night (a day early, haha!), and I am now on a big Loki feels. So, another Loki-centered chapter, divulging into his mind just a little more. Has Meeka helped our poor lost prince? Or is she only making things worse?_

_Sit back and find out!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki sat on the porch steps, staring up at the stars that his human companion has known all her life. She has opened up so much to him, and yet he had barely opened up to her. He knew she wanted to know about Odin, but he would never refer to that man as his father. Odin was simply the man that stole him away from his homeland and raised him to believe a lie. The old fool never intended for Loki to be king. It was always going to be Thor, son of Odin and Frigga.

Frigga. He was spoken openly of her to Meeka, but he could not bring himself to think of how his "death" and his plan to take over Midgard had affected her. She had mourned for a year. How was she taking the news that he was alive? Was she relieved that he had survived the fall, or angry that he had convinced them that he was dead? He bit his tongue and blinked back the tears.

If she only knew what the Chitauri had done to him before flinging him through the portal. If she knew even half of the torture they had put him through, just to ensure his cooperation, she would have attempted to destroy them all. He had tried to hide the pain from the mortals, but the girl had noticed. She had a sharp mind, and he wished he had been of a clear mind to recruit her as well.

It wouldn't have helped him at all. Taking Barton had nearly cost him an eye. If he had not seen the arrow coming from his peripheral, his eye would have been the least of his worries. But, like himself, Barton was simply doing what was asked of him. He wouldn't hold it against the archer.

What the hell was happening to him? When did he become so sympathetic and understanding? Was it her? Was she causing this, this change that was happening faster than he could stop it? He shifted his gaze the the ground and furrowed his brow. She was just a mortal; yet she was causing something within him to change. He couldn't even lie to her like he could the others. It was like his natural power of deception cowered before her, but he couldn't understand why.

Maybe it was something much more powerful than deception. He didn't really want to admit it, but he knew it was a possibility. If only he could allow himself to feel that particular emotion. Maybe then he could find the satisfaction he so longed for.

He stood and went back into house. He'd done enough thinking for the day.

* * *

He awoke to Handley licking his face. He gently pushed the canine away and sat up, noticing a note on the couch. He grasped the strange parchment and read the words scrawled onto it.

_Went to church. Be back around lunch. Take care of Handley please._

He grinned and scratched behind the dog's ear. He had seen quite a few churches in New York, and had unfortunately allowed the Chitauri to destroy the ornate buildings. He had the feeling that the ones around here wouldn't be as beautifully decorated, but would still hold much reverence to the humans. He could respect that much.

He turned to the small creature. "Handley want to go out?" The female yipped, and he laughed at the sound. He stood and pulled on the jeans and shirt left out for him. He opened the front door and stood, watching the animal as she did her business.

Maybe he was capable of this. This was simple, basic. He didn't have to answer to anyone or uphold a certain image. No one cared who or what he was, and he could be alone as much as he wanted. Maybe Thor knew that, and wanted to give the raven-haired man a taste of what the average citizen of Asgard had. It would give him a new respect for commoners.

He called for Handley to come back inside. He didn't need to let his thoughts wander today. He had to plan lunch, and try to get an idea of who she was as a person, what she was interested in, and what her dreams for the future were.

He swallowed hard, shocked at the new emotion he was faced with.

* * *

He looked up as Meeka stepped through the door, and his jaw dropped. She was wearing a simple, A-line dress, black in color, with a strip of pink at the top of the bodice. The skirt stopped just above her knees, and the black heels elongated her already lengthy legs.

"What's for lunch," she inquired, slipping the small shrug off her shoulders to reveal two impossible small straps against her pale skin.

"I figured lasagna would be more your flavor today," he answered, his voice even despite the desire fogging his mind. He had only seen her in typical Midgardian clothes, so to see suck a form-fitting garment on her body stunned him.

"Oh, good," she replied happily. "How about I finish up and you go get a shower?" He nodded unable to speak.

He set the water temperature to cold this time.

* * *

_P.S: I'm going to try and make a cover image for this story, but if you guys would like to try your hand at it, go right ahead._


	7. Letters To The Dead

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_YES! Loki is exploring his FEELINGS! Something I kinda took from Thor 2: sensitive!Loki, and boy do I love it!_

_I've never really let a song determine a whole chapter, but I've had Avril Lavigne's Damn stuck in my head. So this is going along the line of that song, with the focus of Meeka's thoughts being on her deceased brother._

_So, I present to you, Letters to the Dead._

_Sit back and enjoy._

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Meeka sat on the couch, pen and paper in hand, trying to find the words to write. She knew she had to tell him about Loki, despite her reservations that he wasn't telling her everything. Even though she had told him everything. She sighed and started writing.

_Dear Mikey,_

_Things are going pretty well here. Work is boring as usual. Finally got Clockwork Princess. Pretty interesting so far._

_I met a guy, Mikey. He's not from around here. He's sleeping on the air mattress in the spare bedroom cause he used up all his money getting here. I loaned him your old clothes to wear until he gets a job, which I know is going to be a while. Hope you don't mind._

_I wish you could meet him. He's a gentleman, and shares the same love for literature that I do. I might see if I can get him hired on at the book shop. He's so understanding and helpful, and Handley likes him. Shock, huh?_

_And he's sad, Mikey. He can't go back home. He did something that embarrassed his whole family, and now they want nothing to do with him. I bet it was something really insignificant, like go to Walmart or something. He talks like an aristocratic Yankee, to be honest._

_I just want to help him. I just want him to realize that what they think doesn't matter. It's his life, and if he wants to do something "normal," like shop at Walmart, why shouldn't he?_

_He seems lonely, too. How I wish I could take that away from him, but I know it won't happen. He's probably fall for Tasha or Nikki, but not me. Not the freak with the purple eyes who doesn't even have a cycle like a normal woman._

_I can hear you now. "Don't say that, Meeka." But you know it's true. I'm the only one in the family with these eyes. Alexandria's Genesis. Whatever._

_If you only knew how much I wish you were here. A whole year since you left us, and it still hurts just as much. What I wouldn't do to trade places with you, for it to be me instead of you._

_I guess I'll end it with that, then. Before I start crying again like I did this morning._

_I wish you were_ _here_.

She put the pen down and wiped her eyes. She didn't want Loki to see her cry again. Despite how hard he had tried to hide it, she saw the scrapes on his knuckles after the last time she broke down. She didn't want him to do that again. Not because of her.

She heard the front door open, and ripped the page out before he could see it. She tossed the notebook on the back of the couch and slid the note under the couch as Handley raced in.

"She seems to have taken a liking to me," he commented as he shut the door.

"Yeah, she has," she answered with a smile, hoping he wouldn't see the evidence of her sadness. The lyrics to a song floated through her head, and she chuckled inwardly.

_How damn fitting._

* * *

_Yes, I know, the chapter's short. I don't think I could make it any more than it is. I promise, the next one will be longer._


	8. Lighting and Thunder

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_Alrighty! A letter to Mikey out of the way. Now, how will Loki handle himself when Meeka has to go to work?_

_Hopefully, NOT chaos!_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki awoke to silence, and glanced at the couch next to the air mattress. Handley was staring at him, and as soon as he sat up, she whimpered at him. He scratched her behind the head, then rose to get dressed. He snorted at the shirt she had picked out; apparently, the mortals had created a movie about his dolt of a brother.

He slid the shirt on, realizing that he was being ungrateful. It could always be worse; Thor could have died in New York at the hands of the Chitauri. Would he still insult the older man if he had? Or would that have broken him like Meeka was? He shook his head, the mere thought of loosing the only brother he had ever known tightening his chest. He had said last year, when Thor was banished, that he loved the man more than anyone else. Was that still true? Or had he been bluffing Sif and the Warriors Three?

He stepped into the hallway and out into the living room. He spotted a note on the door of the refrigerator, and reached to read the handwriting.

_Work until five. Take care of Handley. DO NOT get in trouble._

He smirked at the paper. That explains the lack of commotion. He tossed the paper into the trash can and reached for the door knob. The dog looked at him, and he suddenly got an idea.

"Let's go visit her, Handley," he suggested as he reached for the leash and collar.

* * *

He made his way to the bookshop, smiling as the small animal got excited. He looked through the glass to see Meeka standing behind the counter, flipping through a magazine. He raised a hand and tapped on the glass, laughing as she jumped clear out of her skin. She waved at him, and he saw her glance at the clock. She ran around the counter and put a sign on the door: "OUT TO LUNCH", then shut and locked the door as she stepped out.

"What are you doing here," she laughed, squatting down to scratch Handley's ear.

"I figured I could use a walk, and you said not to get in trouble," he answered. "I figured how much trouble could I cause if I came to see you?" She smiled at him as she stood, and he felt that damned flutter in his chest again.

"There's a good, dog-friendly cafe around the corner," she stated. He offered his free arm, and she took it with an amused expression.

He would investigate the emotions later. Right now he was too busy trying to ignore the bolts of lightning in his veins and the thunder in his chest.

* * *

He sat on the porch, telling Meeka that he felt like stargazing for a while. She really didn't care so long as he kept the light off and didn't make too much noise. He stared at the burning balls of gas, pondering his actions for the day.

The impromptu trip to the bookstore. He didn't do it just to stay out of trouble. He had done it cause he wanted- no, _needed_- her company. There wasn't a single way he could have continued on with his day without hearing her voice, seeing her deep purple eyes. When he had offered his arm, he never expected her to take it, or the bolts of- whatever the Hel it was- to shoot up his arm. When he had grabbed her hands the other afternoon, it was simply a tingling. But today, it was so much more. And when they parted ways after her lunch break, he was left with a gaping hole that he couldn't explain.

Was it love? Not brotherly love or the love a child feels for it's mother, but love like what Odin shared with Frigga. Could he have finally found the satisfaction he had been looking for? He had heard rumors that one would know when they're soul mate entered their life; that they would always view that person as a Valkyrie sent from Valhalla. Was Meeka his violet-eyed Valkyrie?

He shook his head and scolded himself. He'd only known her for a few days, and knew better than to think that he deserved her. It was time for him to admit it: he deserved to rot in Hel for the things he had done. He didn't deserve her, and she deserved so much more than he could offer.

Yet he didn't want to go on without her. These past few days had been the happiest days of his life, and he wanted to live the rest of her life like that. He knew better than to think she would live as long as he, but if he could get at least sixty good, happy years with her, he could be at peace with everything.

It wasn't until he stepped inside that he realized he was crying.


	9. All Tangled Up

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_OMG! OMGOMGOMG! Is our dear God of Mischief falling in *gasp* LOVE? Ohoho, this will be most interesting._

_Now, on to Meeka. Is she feeling the same thing, or will Loki's affections be denied?_

_Find out right now!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Meeka flipped through the bridal magazine, her mind not really focusing on the lovely white gowns before her. She was more interested in figuring out the mess of emotions that hit her yesterday when her hand touched his arm. Did he feel it too, or was she simply kidding herself? She wanted this to be mutual. She had never felt so accepted and whole in her life, and she had the feeling neither had he. Eventually, he would most likely leave, but she didn't want that. She wanted him to stay, to always be there when she needed to cry or needed a good surprise.

She knew better. She knew that he wouldn't stay. He only chose to speak to her cause they shared somewhat similar taste in literature. What could she offer that would make him stay?

There was always that one thing she had kept from the others...

"Meeka, you're getting desperate," she muttered to herself.

She knew she couldn't do that. It was never a guarantee. That was probably what he was waiting for, and was giving her a poor-pitiful-me story to win her trust. How could she be sure he was telling the truth?

She shook her head and closed the magazine. Too much thinking, not enough working.

* * *

She stepped through the door to smell food cooking. She could almost tell instantly what he was making: some sort of roast, with potatoes and kidney beans. Where on Earth had he learned so many different recipes?

"Going all out, aren't you," she laughed as he quickly pulled the roast out.

"You work all day, you deserve a good meal when you come home," he answered, putting away the oven mitt and turning to her. "That and I didn't join you for lunch today." She snorted in an effort to hold back the laughter. Could he get any more hopelessly romantic?

_Stop now, Meeka. You're falling way to fast._

* * *

She laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the only light coming from the full moon outside. She was trying to sort through the feelings within her, and finally decided to start with suspicion.

What was he really after? Was he telling her the whole truth, or was it all a lie? She remembered his face when he spoke of his mother, and decided that he was speaking the truth then. But he would not tell her about his father. Why? Did he really embarrass his family, or did he find out something that made him resent them all? She would have to pry that from him later.

On to attraction. She felt attracted to him, in every way, and she could not deny that. But why him? And why was it so damn strong? He was handsome in a very tall-dark-stranger way, and when he spoke, he was so understanding and sympathetic. How could he understand her so well?

Finally, she focused on the one emotion she had hoped to not have to deal with: love. She was falling for him, and hard. It wasn't like a stupid high school crush. This was something had the potential to break not only her heart, but her soul. He had sucked her in, his voice like sweet venom to her, and she feared that he would turn around and be someone totally different. Would he be like the rest, or was he truly different?

She turned onto her side and closed her eyes. It was getting late, and her thoughts were running wild again.

She had the day off tomorrow. She'd speak to him about it.


	10. Confessions

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_And Meeka feels the same way! What to do with all those feels?_

_So, we're going back to Loki. This chapter might be a bit long, but I worked my tail end off on it for you guys._

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki leaned against the wall, staring at the lovely woman who had managed to steal his heart in only a few days. She had her nose stuck in her book, her fiery hair pulled up in a ponytail. He had tried to plan carefully for this, for every possible outcome of what he was about to say to her. If she rejected him, he could go home knowing that he tried, and that she had quite literally saved him. If she accepted his words, he would have to make a choice: the throne that he had once longed for, or the life he had grown to love. Surely Odin would not be that cruel to him.

"Loki," she called, pulling him from his thoughts. "What's wrong?" He smiled and took a seat next to her on the couch, not meeting her gaze.

"Nothing's wrong, Meeka," he answered. "Just thinking." He took a deep breath and locked his eyes with hers. "Meeka, when I first arrived here, I was alone. I didn't know anyone and couldn't find my way around. Fate lead me to you, and I took a chance." She smiled.

"I remember that," she murmured. "I was enjoying myself after a long day at work." He nodded.

"Speaking to me, taking me in," he continued. "That was your choice, a choice I am more than grateful that you made." He took another deep breath, then looked away and shook his head. "By the nine, this was easier in my head." She laughed, a wonderful sound that made even the best symphonies sound like child's play, bringing a smile to his lips. He decided that saying it like it was would probably be his best bet at this point.

"Meeka, I never knew this could happen. I thought that love was beyond finding me, and had basically given up on the thought. But then I came here, met you, and now I think you were born to show me that I was wrong." He met her eyes again, praying to whatever deity that was listening, even fucking Odin, that she would not laugh at him for this. "Meeka, I love you. You found the heart I could have swore was nonexistent, and you healed every wound and crack within it. I've never felt more whole and accepted in my life, and it's all due to these last few days I've spent here in your home. If you'll just give me the chance, I can do the same for you. I can't promise the moon or the stars or even a place next to the throne, but I can promise that I'll never leave your side."

He bit his tongue and waited. She was staring at him, her violet eyes clouded by confusion. He stared into the amethyst pools, and soon, his thoughts began to wander again. He could see her, lying beside him, her belly bulging with their child. He could imagine two children, one boy and one girl, with his inky hair and her violet gaze, laughing as they ran among the gardens of Asgard. He could view himself reading the little girl the story of Boer, father of Odin, and could see the boy sparring with his uncle Thor. He already had two names in mind, Mikka for the little girl, and Maki for the boy. A way to commemorate her brother through his niece and nephew.

"Loki."

He yanked himself from his imagination and nodded, letting her know that he was there mentally. And he was. If she rejected him, he could give up his dream of ruling Asgard with her by his side. If she wanted the same things he did, then his life would truly be complete.

"You've already healed me. Every gaping hole caused by Mikey's death, every crack where a guy dumped me for some stupid reason or another. They're all gone. I didn't know that anyone could fall in love within a few days, but obviously it's possible. I didn't know I could feel this whole since Mikey's death, but you've shown me that it's possible." She smiled, tears rimming her eyes. "Just don't dump me like the others have. I don't want to let you go, my unlikely Prince Charming." He let out a laugh of relief as he took her hands in his, appreciating how unaware of the irony she was.

"I fear the monster I would become should I ever let you go," he whispered, letting his emotion drip from his voice. She scooted closer to him, and before he could blink, her lips were pressed to his. He let his eyes close and slid a hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer to him.  
Soon, he would have to tell her the truth. His past, his true form, his true home, and the truth of how he came to be here. But for now, he would relish the feeling of her in his arms, and the pure joy coursing through his body. He would bask in the glory of acceptance, and pray that he never loose her, in any way. He would pray that she live another one hundred years, even though he knew it physically impossible.

For now, he would appreciate the unhindered love that gripped his once frozen heart.


	11. Only The Truth

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_YAY! They're going to be a couple! *does happy dance*_

_So, I've got another long chapter for you guys. Once again, worked my tail off on it, so I hope you guys like it!_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Meeka awoke, in her bed, which she knew she did not fall asleep on. She sprang to her feet and swiftly opened the door, darting down the hall. Was yesterday just a dream? Did Loki regret what he told her and took off? Every horrible possibility ran through her head, the hall seeming to grow longer and longer.

He was leaning against the counter, his eyes reflecting more pain than she had ever seen. His hands trembled at his sides, and his hair was a mop of ebony curls on his head.

In that moment, he looked like a lost child.

"Loki," she whispered. He barely turned, but his eyes still met hers. She felt tears form on the edges of her vision at the amount of heartache in his gaze.

"I'm sorry, Meeka," he croaked. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I haven't been completely honest with you." She stared at him, stunned and confused.

"What do you mean," she inquired.

"I couldn't tell you the whole truth cause you would have thought me insane," he continued. "I had to sugar-coat it, as you humans say."

"What do you mean 'you humans,'" she questioned, her voice rising a bit. He closed his eyelids, a stray tear slipping down his angular face.

"I'm not human, Meeka," he answered, opening his eyes. "I never was. I'm a demi-god. I can live for thousands and thousands of years. I have special abilities that make me unique to everyone around me. My name alone should have given you some sort of clue." She shook her head. "Meeka, you're a smart young woman. Surely you know." She opened her mouth to reply when it hit her.

Loki.

Loki, God of Mischief and Chaos. God of Lies. Loki, brother of Thor.

Loki, the man who waged war and nearly leveled New York.

She shook her head and backed away. This couldn't be happening. Surely it was a really, really bad dream. "This isn't real," she muttered. His lower lip trembled as he shook his head.

"It is real, love," he confirmed. "I can assure you, I speak the truth. I couldn't lie to you even if I wanted to."

"How can I know that," she shouted, tears threatening to spill. "How can I know that you haven't been lying to me all along? Hell, how do I even know that you're not lying now?" His shoulders sagged as he looked away. He muttered something she couldn't make out, but she really didn't want to know.

Suddenly, a soft, golden glow formed at his stomach, spreading out over his small frame. She could see the clothes disappear, replaced by something black and leather. Golden gauntlets appeared at his wrist, and some sort of helmet formed on his head. The horns of the helmet reached all the way up to the ceiling, and she figured they would touch it if he held his head up.

Yet through it all, her gaze went right back to his. She could see the tears he was trying to hold back, and she knew one thing for certain: he wasn't lying to her.

This was Loki, God of Chaos, and he was at her mercy.

"Now you know," he murmured. "Now do you believe me?"

And she did. She did believe him. Now she understood why he wouldn't speak of his father. Odin didn't have a good track record if what she read was correct. She understood his reluctance to talk about Thor. She believed that the only person who ever truly stood by him was his mother, and she believed that he loved her.  
She stepped forward and took his hands in hers.

"Yes, Loki," she soothed. "I believe you. I would believe every word you say to me. You've yet to really give me a reason not to." He chuckled, a relieved sound despite the tears flowing down his face. "While we're digging for the truth, is there anything else I need to know?" His chuckle rose to a full laugh, and she joined him in the joyous sound. "I'm sorry I got so angry with you."

"Don't be, love," he countered, his lips hovering so close to hers. "As far as anything else you need to know, would my true form be in that category?" She squealed, nervous and excited, and let her grin grow.

"I wanna see," she stated. His jaw dropped, surprise clear on his face. "Come on, show me! I promise, I won't scream or run away." He closed his eyes, and the armor disappeared, replaced by the Lynard Skynard t-shirt and worn out jeans. A blue tinge took over his skin, starting at this wrist and moving up his arms. She saw what looked like engravings in the blue flesh, and noticed that they flowed right up to the ones on his forehead. His eyes opened, now red instead of green.

"Does this not scare you, Meeka?" She cocked her head at him.

No, she wasn't afraid. She was more curious than anything. What was he, and would this "true form" be cold to the touch? Did he embrace this side of him, or was he disgusted with what he was?

But overall, this side of him was beautiful. It was raw and unguarded and honest, and she couldn't deny the beauty of it.

"No," she replied. "I like it. It's beautiful, in a raw, unique way." She reached for his arm, and he pulled away.

"Don't," he instructed. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't know how your skin will react to it."

"Let me," she pleaded. "Please?" He tensed, then nodded. She reached again, this time coming in contact with the indigo limb.

And it felt like a stone during the winter. She skimmed over it, then pressed her palm flat against him. It began to fade under her touch, and she watched in awe as his body returned to some vision of normal. Her eyes met his.

"So unafraid," he mused. "I wonder how this would translate in other endeavors." She smirked, hoping that he was thinking the same thing he was. She pressed his lips to his, then moved her mouth to the outside of his ear.

"Why don't we find out?"


	12. Met His Match

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_Now she knows. And yet, she accepts him still. She is one tough cookie!_

_And we now get to the Rated M portion. Do not read if children or significant others are around, unless you're okay with that. If so, then proceed._

_Sit back and enjoy._

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki groaned as he pressed her against the bedroom door. Her words after seeing his true form had made him wonder about her intentions, but not any more. The whimpers coming from her throat were all he needed to press against her even harder. How did human men stand it in these "jeans," as they called them. The ones he had on seemed to be getting tighter as his member stiffened. He wrestled to get her t-shirt over her head, a pathetic whimper passing his lips at the sight before him.

A green lace bra barely held in her voluptuous breasts. His emerald gaze was glued to them, even as her lips pressed against his neck. His eyelids slid shut, and he tilted his head back, giving her better access to his throat.

"Like what you see, God of Mischief," she teased. He growled and pressed against her, hissing at the sweet friction of her thigh against his groin.

"It seems as though I've met my match," he murmured in her ear, his left hand cupping the pale mound. She let out a cry of pleasure, arching into him and throwing her head back.

Perfect.

He bent his head down and nibbled on her collar bone, grinning as she bucked against him. With his free hand, he cupped her ass and picked her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and he turned around, thankful for the small space of her bedroom. He gently laid her on the bed, but not before swiftly unlatching her bra and pulling it down her arms.

"How did you," she began, only to stop as his fingers pinched her nippled.

"Practice, love, practice," he answered before dipping his head down to lick one of the pebbled nubs. She writhed beneath him, which only urged him to take the salmon peak between his teeth and tug on it. Her hips rose, and he made quick work of the jeans she had on. He rose up, and his eyes fell on her nether regions. A pair of green panties clung to her hips, made of so little material, he almost blushed.

"I swear, you'll be the death of me," he whispered as he stroked a finger against a damp spot. She whimpered, and his eyes snapped to her face.

"Do it again," she pleaded. His brow furrowed as he touched her through the material, biting back a moan as she arched and writhed on the bed. An idea slithered into his mind, and his signature grin overtook his face. His fingers pressed against the lace, and she cried out in ecstacy, his name barely a whisper. Her whole body began to quiver, signaling her impending release. He stroked her a few more times before pulling his fingers away.

"Not just yet, love," he soothed over her whines. "You'll get what you so desperately want. I promise." He shed his own shirt, glancing down to see that she had sat up, and was frantically fumbling with the button on his jeans. He chuckled and gently tilted her face towards his with one finger.

The perks of being a God.

"Eager, aren't you," he mused, using his free hand to pop the button open. Her tiny fingers slid the zipper down, freeing him from the confines of the jeans. She gasped, and he grinned slyly.

"I've never-" she swallowed, then met his gaze. "I've never done this before." He carded his fingers through her hair, the band holding it back long lost.

"Don't worry, love," he responded. "Just do what feels natural." She nodded, glancing at his length, then back at him.

"Teach me. Please."

He didn't think it was possible to be any more aroused than what he already was, but those simple words nearly did him in. He shed the jeans and climbed on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and taking her hands in his. He guided them to his member, gently wrapped her fingers around it, then laid back. Her stroked him once, twice, and he slid his eyes closed. He had to use all his self-control to keep his release at bay, and when her lips suddenly closed around him, he let out a cry of surprise. He propped himself on his elbows and watched.

"Don't try to take it all at once," he instructed, forcing to words out. A sharp pain ran up his torso, and he clenched his jaw. "Cover your teeth, love." She did as he said, and he found that she was fairly skilled for an amature.

Suddenly, something flicked against the underside of his manhood, and he hissed out a breath.

Her tongue. She had apparently read about this somewhere, cause no woman had ever done this to him. He felt that familiar fire pooling in his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to stop her or look away. Her vivid red hair, swaying slightly as she bobbed her head up and down, taking in more and more of him with each dip.

She had full control or him, and he was at her mercy.

"Stop," he whimpered, his voice dripping with need. "Stop, Meeka, stop." She released his organ with a pop and met his gaze.

"Did I do something wrong," she inquired as he dropped back to the pillows and tried to regain the self-control she had somehow stolen from him.

"No, no, no, love," he panted. "Quite the opposite." He heard her giggle, and he reached for her hand. "I just didn't want this to end too soon." He suddenly sat up, grabbing her hips and flipping them over. He now hovered over her, his length throbbing with arousal and her trembling below him.

"Will it hurt," she questioned. He looked at her, confused by the question. Was she really that innocent? She swallowed again and looked away. "When I said I've never done this before..."

"You meant any of this," he finished. She nodded, and he gently grasped her chin and turned her face to his. "I can't lie, it will hurt. But I promise you, love, that I'll be and gentle as possible." He gently kissed her forehead and slid the lace panties down her legs before lining himself up with her. "Tell me now if it's too much." She shook her head.

"No," she stated firmly. "I want this." He nodded and gently pushed in, slowly stretching her. He backed off a bit, the pressed forward. He repeated the same motions over and over, until he found himself right at her maiden head.

"One last push, love," he grunted, his self-control hanging by a thread. "Just give me a moment." She nodded and met his gaze.

"Guess I'm a bit tight, huh," she murmured. He laughed, glad for the minor distraction.

"That and, it's been a while," he replied honestly. She let out a breathy laugh, and he couldn't stop himself from claiming her lips. She took a deep breath, and he pushed past the barrier and buried himself to the hilt. Her nails dug into his skin, and he tenderly kissed her cheek.

"I didn't think it would hurt this badly," she whimpered. He nuzzled her hair and pressed his lips to her neck.

"It'll pass soon, love," he soothed. "It won't last forever, I promise. Just give yourself time to adjust." He peppered her face and neck with kisses, keeping an eye out for any signal that she was ready. Her walls flexed around him, and he couldn't stop the groan bubbling from his throat.

"You can move now, baby," she whispered.

And move, he did.

He started off slow at first, taking this time to learn what to do to get the desired results. Once he found the spot that made her cry out, he picked up speed, hitting it with each thrust. Before long, her walls were fluttering around him, and she screamed his name as her orgasm hit her. He let go, allowing his own release to wash over him.

He collapsed beside her and pulled her protectively against him.

"That was amazing," she panted as she dozed off in his arms. He chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

"Yeah, it was."


	13. An Uneasy Conversation

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_So, I'm gonna try something somewhat new in this story. This chapter will focus on Loki this time, and probably from here on out. Just figured I'd warn you._

_Now that the steamy stuff is out of the way, it's time to see if Loki really has fallen for her, or if he was just using her._

_Who's ready for Odin?_

_Sit back and enjoy!_

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki slowly blinked awake, pleased to find her still in his arms. She confused him beyond anything he'd ever encountered, accepting everything about him without hesitation. So fearless and bold, far braver than Sif by any stretch, and more lovely than Freya.

And he would not live without her.

He sighed and pulled her closer to him. He would have to return to Asgard and speak to Odin. He prayed that Odin would understand, and that he would allow Meeka and Handley to join him in Asgard. If not, he would gladly give up everything for her. His immortality, his title, his home. She meant that much to him.

She stirred slightly in his arms, and he smiled as her eyelids parted.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered, his heart leaping as she smiled back.

"Morning," she murmured, closing her eyes and snuggling into him.

"We've only got a few moments, then I must return home to speak with Odin," he explained softly. She whined, and he had to bite back the heartache. "I don't want to leave either, Meeka, but I must speak to him. He did save me when I was only an infant. I owe him that much."

"How soon will you be back," she questioned.

"As soon as I can, love," he answered. "It will hurt me to leave you. But know that I will still be with you in spirit." She nodded, and he kissed the top of her head. "Sleep, my dear. When you awake, I'll be back." He stood, carefully sliding his arm out from under her head. She pouted at him, and he very nearly climbed back in the bed. "Don't make this harder than it already is, please." She giggled, and he couldn't stop his smile.

"Hurry back, Loki. I think Handley is starting to like you."

* * *

Loki slowly stepped closer to the throne, the intimidating figure of Odin sitting upon it. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear mingling with every horrible possibility. What if Odin forbid him to return to Meeka? He would have to continue his life without her, knowing that she would most likely move on, and he would still be alone. What if Odin carried out his own form of punishment upon the young prince?

He wasn't sure if he could handle it.

"So, the fallen prince returns," Odin's voice thundered. The raven-haired god took a deep breath, ready to face what may come.

"I have," he replied, realizing that the usual venom had gone. "I have need to speak with you, AllFather." Odin nodded as he stood, taking each step with slow deliberation.

"Is it the girl," he questioned. "The one that took you in?" Loki looked away and nodded. "Meeka, am I right?"

"Yes, Father," the younger man muttered. "She's different from the rest of the mortals."

"So the Guardian tells me," Odin mused, walking past Loki. The Frost Giant turned and followed. "She seems to have brought about a change in you, son. You are unable to lie to her, only withhold bits of the truth. You have learned compassion and how to think like one who is glad for what they have." He stopped and turned to face Loki. "You will make an excellent King one day." A smile tugged at the younger man's mouth.

"That's what I wish to speak to you about," he responded. "I'll only take the throne if I can have her by my side." Odin chuckled.

"And if I forbid her to ever step foot here," he argued.

"Then I have no want for it. She is the only one who makes me want to be a better man. If I cannot have her by my side, I would rather live as a mortal." Odin stared at him, his face unreadable...

Then he smiled.

"You are right about that. She has made you a better man, in a way that no one else can, and to make you live without her would be cruel beyond anything else in the nine realms. I have not been the kindest op people, and it has come back to haunt me. I shall not continue on that path any longer." Loki smiled, realizing what the AllFather was implying.

It was time to bring Meeka home.


	14. Love's Journey

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Loki._

* * *

_So, as unexpected as this is, even for me, this is it. This is the last chapter in the story, guys. Meeka and Loki will have their happy ending, and all will be well._

_I want to thank all of you for sticking through everything. The ones who followed, favorited, and reviewed. You have made this all worth it. I wish I could just keep going, but apparently, Loki has that scepter back and is telling me what to. Even he doesn't see any other way to end this._

_I will write a sequel if you readers would like one. I've got a pretty good idea for one, but of course, Loki is saying no. I'm leaving it up to you, guys. If you want it, I shall write it._

_Anyway, this is the last chapter. Happy Friday the 13th, guys._

_Love always,_

_Avoline_

* * *

Loki stood on the balcony, staring out at the mountains of Asgard. It had been ten years time since he was left in the Midgardian town, and to this day, he was glad that Thor had done it. He had learned so much since then, and he had become, quite possibly, the wisest king Asgard has ever had. He had expected the people to hate him, but when Thor told Odin that he had no want for the throne nine years ago, the AllFather and the citizens of Asgard welcomed Loki with open arms.

"Loki," a melodic voice called. "Come to bed. It's getting late." He turned and smiled at the violet eyed Valkyrie laying upon his bed.

Odin had kept his word. Shortly after their chat, Loki raced back to Earth, retrieving Meeka and Handley. The small canine had tried to bite Odin, but very quickly abandoned that idea. Loki couldn't contain his laughter as she whimpered back to him and his behind his boots. He chuckled when the dog succeeded in biting Volstragg, Thor, and Sif.

Sif had been jealous at first. She had hoped to court either himself or Thor, but soon gave up the jealousy. She soon started courting with Fandrall, who happily played with Handley. They wed shortly after, and were expecting their first child. Volstragg had also found himself a fair maiden, Eleski, and they were to be wed soon.

Everyone was now happy and pleased with their lives.

"How did I get so lucky," he murmured as he neared her. She giggled and reached for his hand.

Meeka herself had changed over the years. She had matured a bit, her pain long forgotten and her heart sewn back together. She was happier now, even with the loss of her beloved pet. He marveled at her strength, even though he had cried in her arms for weeks after Handley's death.

"You aren't the lucky one," she answered. "I am. Who knew my Prince Charming would wind up being the King of Asgard." He laughed, laying beside her and pulling her close.

"Oh, but I am the lucky one," he whispered. "I have you. When I had all but given up on myself, you appeared and showed me that all was not lost. You are a Valkyrie sent to save me, and you are an amazing lover and wife."

"I'll be so much more fairly soon," she countered. He gave her a puzzled look. "Loki, sweetie, I'm pregnant."

He felt the smile creep upon his face. She was with child. _His_ child! His heart ached with joy, and he pulled her even closer to him. She would be a wonderful mother, raising their child with the same love and tenderness she had shown him.

But there was also sorrow among the joy. His mother was gone. She would never get to meek her first grandchild.

"Don't be sad, Loki," she soothed, sensing his thoughts. "She will be with us in spirit. Just like Mikey." He smiled against her fiery hair.

"I cannot help it, my love," he replied. "I simply am not sure which emotion to focus on: the joy that the child bring me, or the sorrow that my mother will not be there."

"Both," she responded. "My parents are not here either." She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "But I am more excited about having a child with you than anything else." He chuckled and claimed her mouth.

Life was more perfect than he could have imagined.


End file.
